


The path to redemption (Never did run smoothly)

by Tsukuyomi_Ravioli



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: 2012 TMNT AU, Action/Adventure, Angst, But it is completely up to you to see it that way, Depressed!Leonardo, Fatherly!Tigerclaw, Gen, Human Leonardo (TMNT), Human Tigerclaw (TMNT), Hurt/Comfort, Injuried!Leonardo, Leonardo hates life mainly, Leonardo is sad, Leonardo keeps comparing Tigerclaw to Spinter, Leonardo needs a hug, Leonardo-centric, Let's make 2021 good with this shit, Minor Injuries, Mutant Apocalypse, NO ONE is being shipped, NOT a Tigerclaw X Leonardo fanfiction. NO, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Serious Injuries, Tigerclaw is an actual sweetheart in this, Torture, more or less
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsukuyomi_Ravioli/pseuds/Tsukuyomi_Ravioli
Summary: The mutant apocalypse. It was supposed to go as planned - to turn all humans into mutants, or to kill them off. It backfired for two, however; one turtle was now human, and, accompanied by an old foe, they must learn to survive in a world where people want to detain them. To experiment on them, to torture them. Life won’t be easy, it never was, but he wouldn’t stop trying until he found his brothers - dead or alive./\TMNT/\“What if they are dead? What am I supposed to do - I can’t- I can’t live without them.”“Are you not doing so right now?” The older man questioned, a look on his face the younger couldn’t quite read. “You may not be thriving, but you live - and if you live, they will live inside you, alive or not. You are carrying your family’s legacy-” He reached out to press a hand to the younger male’s chest, right over his heart. “Do not forget that, Cub.”
Relationships: Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & Raphael (TMNT), Leonardo & Tigerclaw (TMNT)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	The path to redemption (Never did run smoothly)

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: This story is set at the beginning of the Mutant apocalypse  
> Welcome - I hope you enjoy!  
> I've had this idea on my mind for a while, and I decided I'd finally just let loose and build upon this mini-world I've created in my head. It has had its fairshare of cutbacks and redos over the weeks, but here's the first chapter because why not? It's Christmas, have something :D

His fingers curled around the metal bar, shifting it from the rubble, lifting it with little difficulty and taking a swing with his newfound item. It was solid; heavy; and could be useful in any aspect. It didn’t look too old either - the metal held strong, bolted together, quite fresh compared to other pieces laying around. The steel shone in the sun, glistening, rippling, and he couldn’t help but smile gently, seeing his companion's face behind him, reflected within its surface. “Is this one good?”

“Yes, Cub,” The older man agreed, shifting a hand out to take the bar, placing it into a sack he then flung over his shoulder, grunting with the weight. They’d been here a while; searching for supplies, the usual. Today was a good day - they’d found a lot more than normal. More materials rather than food (the smaller male’s stomach rumbled at the mere thought) but it was helpful nonetheless. 

“It’d make a good weapon.” He added softly, furrowing his eyes as he looked towards the slowly dying sun. “We should probably head back, right? Sun’s pretty low.”

“Agreed. Lead the way.” 

They trekked throughout the debris and rubble of fallen buildings, feet falling off the concrete onto soft sand. The pair, both barefoot, took comfort in its warmth and gentleness; a day of walking on rough terrain hadn’t been fun at all. It took around ten minutes, but before they knew it they had made it back to their truck. 

It wasn’t a nicely-built thing. To be fair, they hadn’t made it themselves. A few weeks back, they’d come across a camp. It wasn’t a big one, full of perhaps fifteen, maybe sixteen people, each crazy-looking and disgusting. They looked like spitting images of purple-dragons. If purple-dragons had been mutated into horrible creatures. Some were wolves, some were the occasional bug, and even one with the body of a cat humanoid, but the wings of a hawk. It had been night when they had stumbled upon it; icy temperatures that carved well down below freezing. The two newcomers had been desperate. They didn’t want to steal - or well, the younger didn’t. The older, more threatening male hadn’t paid attention to the cries of his companion, storming in, taking supplies; medicine, food, water, the lots, and the group’s truck to match their getaway. The smaller couldn’t help but wonder if those people were even alive still. Not many were, after all. It had been a tough few weeks in the area, and with everything they had stolen, they were sure to be suffering.

Opening the door, he stepped inside, hearing the taller male open the external storage containers, placing today's findings within their depressingly small stash. At least it would look better now; perhaps tomorrow he can take a crack at remodeling one of those beams to make himself a weapon. Even if no one was here besides them both, he’d feel a lot better about it. Taking a seat on his designated chair, he swirled around on it, once, twice, before stopping, reaching up behind him to grab a can of whatever - they had all kinds of drinks, it didn’t really matter. Shifting his finger under the tab and pulling, the soda fizzed loudly within the can, quietening down after a moment. It looked to be some form of coke - the dark liquid sloshed against the metal canister, the liquid turning into small swirls as he rotated his hand a few times before taking a sip. The drink burned his mouth slightly, but it was refreshing nonetheless. At least he was keeping hydrated; his companion should probably too - he’d have to remind him later.

“Leonardo-Kun.” Called the older male from outside the truck. “Can you come help me with this, please?”

Speaking of the man - he hopped up, setting the can on the table besides him before jumping down the stairs and onto the soft sand, now completely cooled in the dim-evening sky. “What’s up, Tigerclaw?”

The man was crouched down, a flashlight in hand, checking out the supplies of the food they had. He was ruffling through a few packets - and Leo meant a few. They weren’t doomed for hydration, however hunger was a completely different story. There hadn’t been a scrap of food anywhere since they’d raided that group; and if there was, it was out of date, or moldy. They couldn’t afford to eat it; couldn’t afford to get sick. Starvation was better than any outcome - it gave them time, at least. Tigerclaw finally decided on a packet, picking it up and throwing it at the younger - Leo caught it squarely; The packet said it was some form of chicken. Figured a human who was once a feline would want chicken. It was better than some of the other options in there at least. “Where do you want it?” 

“Let me just get the grill running.” The human’s legs cracked as he stood, disappearing over to the other side of the truck. “We need to try and find another camp, Cub. We will run out of supplies soon enough.” 

Leonardo sighed, turning on his heel and slumping down onto one of the low steps of the truck, still clutching the food-packet within his grip. “They’ll kill us.” He said softly. “We’re human now - they’ll see us and want to kill us. Or capture us and torture us. Or experiment - and quite frankly, I don’t want that.”

“I know that.” Tigerclaw’s voice gently rumbled from behind the truck, the sounds of pots, pans and the sorts moving ruining the bittersweet moment. “But we have no choice, Cub. We will die regardless.” 

Leo huffed silently, running a hand through his blue-black locks, feeling the soft curls bounce slightly as he pulled away; it was weird, being human. He had ten fingers, and ten toes. He had hair, he had no shell; no plastron, no more having to never lay on his back for fears of his carapace tipping him. He had milky-white skin, untanned and unaffected by the sun's harsh rays. It was all so new, so terrifying. It had its ups, and its downs, being the best of both worlds, in his eyes. Although he did admit, he preferred his green-tone over a sickly-white. Perhaps it would fade over time out here in the sunny wastelands. At least he still had his muscles, though he wondered why he’d even thought they’d leave in the first place. Of course they wouldn’t, and if they did, he’d just build them back up - stronger. Leaner. He was dressed in a few clothes he had found courtesy of his first day out in the terrain. A T-shirt, worn with age, alongside a brown hoodie, to which he rolled the sleeves back always because **man** was it hot during the day. On the bottom end, he wore beige shorts, the best thing he could find. He could have always taken the cloak that was offered to him by Tigerclaw a while ago, but he didn’t fancy wearing such a heavy object around. He’d saved that for a blanket instead. It was more useful that way.

Tigerclaw was also a sight for sore eyes. He had medium, shoulder length brown but greying hair, tied back in a professional Japanese-style bun; he looked a lot like Leonardo’s father, at least from the photos he had seen of his father as a human. A long scar ran down the base of where his left eye used to be; the eyepatch had never been recovered, apparently, only pieces of it - nothing useful remaining. He had a grey goatee, again, reminding him how painfully similar he was to his deceased father. He wore his usual uniform from before; a blue top, accompanied with a blue bandana, a brown overcoat and brown pants. However his uniform was void of weapons and ammunition aside from a singular knife he carried in his back pocket. Leonardo wondered if the man even knew he figured out it was there. Not that it had been difficult. 

“Leonardo.” There were hands in front of him, invading his vision, trying to take the packet from him. He flinched backwards, shaking himself out of the daydream his mind had captured him in. The chicken was taken off him -”Thank you, Cub.”- the packet ripping open loudly, being dumped in a pan that hadn’t been there moments ago. Leo blinked - in fact, the ex-tiger had set up the whole cooking-station right in front of him that he hadn’t noticed at all. He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes tiredly; must be the sun making him loopy. “I hope you don’t mind chicken. I’m afraid it probably won’t taste very good.” 

“It’s fine.” He said quietly, tapping his feet against the sand in a rhythm - soothing, he supposed - it helped drown out the daydreams - he was prone to them nowadays. A lot, actually. Leonardo supposed the Mutagen used to re-mutify everyone had side effects. After all, the Krang and Shredder hadn’t been planning a harmless birthday party. It was bound to be painful and frustrating, and people were guaranteed to react in different ways. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow. We still have no clue where to search, though.”

“Maybe we should circle around the debris?” He suggested, bending down the draw his fingers through the sand, grabbing a handful and watching it fly from his grasp, free like a liquid but firm like a solid. It was beautiful bliss. “I’d assume people would stay near because of the supplies…” 

“That’s where we will start then.” Agreed the older, nodding as he worked over the flames, “Can you go and get me a drink, Cub? Anything is fine.” 

“Alright.” He hoisted himself up stiffly, turning on his heel and heading back in, quickly grabbing his own drink and a new one -lemonade it seemed- walking out and chuckling it at the taller warrior, who caught it with an expert grip. “There you go.” 

The can was opened with ease, fizzing into the night. “Thank you.”

When the meal was finished, they sat in silence. Tigerclaw had mumbled a prayer or two, hands clasped firmly together, whereas Leonardo sat quietly, waiting for him to finish. He wanted to send a prayer too - to ask for forgiveness, good health, survival - but he was undeserving of it. He wanted to pray for his brothers, but he didn’t even know if they were alive anymore. He surely would have seen them by now if they were, right? It was his fault they were dead, anyway. 

“Leonardo-Kun.” The voice rumbled from across him - he took his eyes away from the stars above, in which he had drifted off looking at, bringing himself back into the world and the conversation. Tigerclaw sat opposite him, putting down his fork back onto the plate to stare into his eyes, bright-yellow meeting glassy-blue. “What has you so distracted? You have been like this for a few days now - we need to be in full strength if we are to venture out tomorrow. What has you so worked up, Cub?”

“Nothing much.” He mumbled, picking up his fork, appetite slowly disappearing - funny how that worked. “I just… Do you think I’ll even find my brothers again? If they’re still… alive that is.” 

Tigerclaw let out a soft sigh, and Leonardo felt the pit in his stomach become harder, heavier, more painful. He didn’t need to hear what his brain was already telling him; he needed hope - he prayed the man didn’t shatter his mind in one swift blow. “If they are still out there…” He started carefully, breaking eye contact to look about them. “Then you shall find them eventually. They will be looking for you also, it is inevitable.” 

“So is death.” He muttered around a mouthful of chicken - the taste was charcoal-ly, god awful if you asked him, but food is food. He swallowed, the meat joining his already heavy abdomen. “What if they are dead? What am I supposed to do - I can’t- I can’t live without them.” 

“Are you not doing so right now?” The older man questioned, a look on his face Leonardo couldn’t quite read. “You may not be thriving, but you live - and if you live, they will live inside you, alive or not. You are carrying your family’s legacy-” He reached out to press a hand to the younger male’s chest, right over his heart. “Do not forget that, Cub.” 

There was an itchiness behind his eyes he couldn’t quite reach, and he bit the inside of his mouth to hold it all back, managing to whisper a small; “You’re right.” Turning to his meal and continuing to eat in silence until he was finished. Tigerclaw took his plate from him as soon as he placed the fork down. 

“Go lay down.” He commanded softly, “Rest. We have a long day ahead of us.” 

Leonardo was up and in the truck before he’d even realized, a hand gently guiding him up the stairs. He walked over to his corner - a small ladder above a larger bed - and climbed up, curling among the old, worn cloak and pillow. He could see through the window, see the older man tidying away and cleaning. He wouldn’t have ever thought he’d end up like this - stuck shell-knows-where with an ex-villain as a human, and watching said-villain doing dishes and humming a tune which sounded oddly familiar. It didn’t feel normal, he supposed it would never be normal again, but he felt safe, had done for a few weeks now. There was something oddly calming about being with the Japanese-man - he supposed it was the similar references he saw to his own father and family. Leonardo knew the man enjoyed his company too; for all he ever had was company with Bebop and Rocksteady. Leo was probably quite a calming revelation to have after all that. He snuggled deeper into the brown mess, rubbing his face against it and sighing, content. The lights were switching off now, Tigerclaw coming back inside and removing his overcoat, hooking it on the side and closing the door, walking underneath him after turning the main light out and getting into the bed. 

Leonardo shuffled to the otherside of his own bed, staring out the small window at all the stars above him, listening to the older man move around beneath him. The stars glimmered in the night's sky, a perfect collection of blue, red, purple and orange twinkling in unison among the heavens. It was a perfect sight - he wondered how many lay up there, looking down at him and his world.

With a deep breath, he closed his tired eyes, raising the cloak further so his head nestled against it; he would count them another day.


End file.
